Chapter 29: The SSR Club

The next day.

Luca dropped Matilda off at school on his way and then headed straight for the Bronx, calling Jimmy to meet him there. They arranged to meet at the club that was on the verge of bankruptcy.

"I've already spoken with the owner of this club..." After they met, Luca briefly outlined his plan to Jimmy. "I'll give you six million first. You'll be in charge of following up on the acquisition process, and I'll transfer the remaining funds as we go."

This represented nearly eighty percent of Luca's current cash flow.

Jimmy had no objections. Even if Luca wanted to use his name and identity for the acquisition, he had already taken the fall for the family on more than one occasion. In the family, when people started companies or invested in real estate, they always used a proxy to act as the legal representative; they would never step into the spotlight themselves. The "Big Boss" was even more low-profile; aside from his advisors and underboss, very few people ever saw him directly. These were all buffer layers; even if one were caught, it wouldn't implicate the others. Jimmy had even heard rumors that in some families, even the Big Boss was just a puppet, and no one even knew the name of the true mastermind. It was clear that compared to other criminal organizations, the internal structure of the Mafia was far more rigorous.

"Luca, how do you intend to operate this club in the future?" Jimmy, ever the businessman, took the initiative to suggest, "I can introduce some members to you."

"Put together a list and show it to me later," Luca said with a smile. "Of course, you'll be a permanent member of the club, enjoying all its services."

Since he was already taking the heat, he deserved a permanent VIP status. At the very least, it was a C-rank card. Luca's words brought a knowing smile to Jimmy's face. He didn't care about the membership; he cared about being valued by Luca. Luca was so young, yet already a made man in the family with a glorious record, deep pockets, and immense personal power. There was a very high probability that he would become a high-ranking member of the family in the future. Once Luca hit the big time, Jimmy joining the family would be as simple as a word from Luca—the Big Boss had the right to invite anyone into the family; the Sicilian blood requirement wouldn't be an obstacle then.

Jimmy felt his judgment wouldn't steer him wrong. That was why he listened to everything Luca said.

"The club will feature an underground casino," Luca instructed. "Find me a few card players in advance—they need to be exceptionally skilled, the kind who can keep the room in check."

Currently, the most popular table game in America was Texas Hold'em, bar none. It had many variations, followed by games like Blackjack, Baccarat, or slot machines and roulette. Las Vegas even hosted the World Series of Poker, with very generous prizes. However, the federal government would eventually pass legislation deeming Texas Hold'em a game of luck rather than skill, dealing a heavy blow to online poker sites; Texas even banned commercial casinos from hosting the game. Competitive play was fine, but gambling was not.

In New York, playing cards privately was fine, but organized gambling was not, and New York did not issue casino operating licenses. Therefore, all of this was illegal. It couldn't be done in the open. Jimmy understood these rules well; there were dozens, if not hundreds, of underground poker dens in New York, each backed by the Mafia or Russian gangs, and even some crooked cops would go there to play.

"Leave it to me; I know a few decent professional players," Jimmy immediately thought of the guys he could never beat no matter how hard he tried. It wasn't just a matter of luck; it was skill, and he even suspected they were cheating.

"Also, hire some staff for the club," Luca instructed. Ordinary waiters, chefs, bartenders, cleaners, security guards, drivers, and so on—there wasn't much to say about them; hire them normally as long as they had clean backgrounds and were hardworking. But the heads of each small department had to be "his own people."

Luca: "They must be trustworthy, people we know inside and out! Either brothers from the family or people with clean backgrounds. Don't bring me anyone with ulterior motives, you understand?"

Jimmy: "Got it."

Before they parted, Jimmy suddenly remembered one thing.

Jimmy: "I still don't know what the club is called."

Luca: "SSR Club."

...

In the afternoon, Luca arrived on Wall Street—he was there to make money, and incidentally, to meet the wolf.

There was a brokerage firm on Wall Street called Stratton Oakmont. The name might sound unfamiliar, but its boss, Jordan Belfort, was known to everyone on Wall Street. Forbes magazine had given him the nickname: The Wolf of Wall Street. Jordan had once helped a company called "Steve Madden Shoes" with an IPO, making 22 million dollars in just three hours.

Was it legal?

Jordan: "It was absolutely f***ing illegal!"

It was precisely because of this that Jordan was under investigation by the FBI. But what stunned all of Wall Street was what Jordan did next. While under investigation and surveillance by the FBI, he only needed to pay a few million in fines and resign from his company and the brokerage industry to avoid further harassment from the SEC and the FBI. But this guy arrogantly tore up the agreement with the SEC and chose to stay at the company to continue his fraudulent schemes. The FBI had no choice but to keep investigating, swearing to put him behind bars. The federal government coveted the money Jordan had swindled.

Luca coveted it too. He also coveted Jordan's skills; surely a guy like this was at least an A-rank card? Or an S-rank? He wondered what bizarre skills could be unlocked from him.

...

At this very moment, inside the wolf-culture company, a chubby man stood on an office desk, holding a document in his right hand and a trash can in his left, roaring at the employees gathered below.

"The U.S. government sends us a subpoena? This is how we at Stratton handle subpoenas!"

After saying this, he threw the subpoena into the trash can and, in front of everyone, amid the cheering of the male and female employees, urinated into the trash can.

"F*** the U.S.! F*** it!"

The chubby man raised his middle finger and shouted. He suddenly remembered a recent news story and added, "F*** America!"

"F*** America!"
"F*** America!"
"F*** America!"

Dozens, if not hundreds, of employees in the hall joined in, chanting and raising middle fingers so high they looked like they would pierce the ceiling—a scene of pure, chaotic madness. Even though Luca had prepared himself psychologically, seeing such a raw and abstract corporate culture, he couldn't help but feel a sense of gratification. America needed this kind of talent, full of passion and a rebellious spirit.

"F*** America!"

Luca joined in the clamor, raising his middle finger high as he walked past the crowd. Along the way, the company's corporate culture was visible everywhere: employees working on the phones, employees taking drugs, and men and women getting intimate.

Luca walked past them and reached the office at the very back. Looking through the glass window, unsurprisingly, Jordan Belfort and his female secretary were in the middle of something indescribable.

[Character Card Found: Jordan Belfort (Locked)]
[Jordan: SR]
[Source: "The Wolf of Wall Street"]
[Skills: Bewitchment; Nerve Paralysis; Wolf of Wall Street]
[Bond: Stranger]

Luca politely waited for 10 seconds, and once Jordan was finished, he knocked on the door.

"Come in!" Jordan shouted.

Luca pushed the door open. The secretary stood up from a pile of subpoenas on the floor, not yet dressed. Seeing Luca, a handsome man, she gave him a flirtatious wink. Jordan, pulling up his pants while sizing up a man who was arguably even more handsome than himself, asked with a confused look: "Who are you looking for?"

Luca reached into his jacket. Seeing the familiar gesture of reaching for identification, Jordan assumed he was with the FBI and snapped angrily: "Asshole! Still at it? When will it end? Didn't I say I'd cooperate? You want a statement, right? You want financial documents, right? I'll give them to you..."

He crouched down to pick up the documents on the floor, ready to throw them at Luca, but his movements suddenly froze. Between Luca's fingers was a gold coin. It was currency from the Continental Hotel, and someone of Jordan's status recognized it. He immediately thought of the two company executives who had been murdered recently. Was it his turn now?

"Get out!" Jordan's face darkened.

The secretary also urged Luca: "Sir, please leave."

Jordan barked: "Bitch! I'm talking to you! Get the f*** out!"

The secretary gave an awkward smile and left. Once she was gone, Jordan said with a grave expression, "Are you an assassin from the Continental Hotel? What do you want with me?"

"When an assassin from the Continental comes knocking, there is usually only one reason: to kill."

The coin in his hand flicked into the air, and Luca smiled slightly: "But this time, it's the exact opposite—I'm here to help you."